


Beware of butterflies, they'll break your hart

by MotherMckinney21



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Butterflies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Harry Hart as Arthur, Harry hart being badass, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Telekinesis, Villain Harry Hart, eventual villain harry hart, harry hart gets powers!, harry has a lot of anger to release, our boys go through a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27805417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherMckinney21/pseuds/MotherMckinney21
Summary: 'Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end, but it is perhaps the end of the beginning'Set during the fight between the kingsman and agent Whiskey, where Harry's butterfly hallucinations become visible and give him Telekinetic powers, but like anything else, power can corrupt.WARNING: Eventual villain Harry Hart.(I hope to come up with a better summary)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 8





	Beware of butterflies, they'll break your hart

**Author's Note:**

> Hey peeps, for those who know me on Tumblr I've finally managed to rustle up the first chapter of my first Kingsman story :)
> 
> This story is co-written with my boyfriend!
> 
> Yes, I've named this story after a Gabbie Hanna song because to me it fits the story's purpose.
> 
> Since I'm new to the Kingsman fandom I hope I've done it justice with this first chapter and those to come!
> 
> Happy reading :D

He was halfway towards completing the final but vital stage of ridding the world of this dancing disease when a choking sensation clenched at his throat, pulling him back in his seat. Both agents turn around to find Whiskey standing in their field of vision, deadly lasso wrapped around Harry's neck in one hand and a gun in the other.

"So? Don't move, kid. You try anything funny, and I'll turn this thing electric. Now give up your guns, fellas."

Both agents do so without hesitation.

"Whiskey, we're all on the same side here. You've had a head injury, the same thing happened to Harry, you're having some sort of brain glitch." Eggsy said in an attempt to be the voice of reason.

The statesman agent shook his head. "Nope, my brains all good, kid. You know what? I reckon the same was true for your friend Harry over here, real fine instincts I'll give him that. So stay still or I'll dice him up so small you can take him home in a bucket and still have room for what's left of your buddy Merlin."

All thoughts to keep the peace were hurled out the window. Neither agent had even begun to come to terms with their late friends' unnecessarily brutal death. Yet their former ally stood there, gleefully taking pleasure in rubbing it in their faces.

By the time he was able to fully comprehend that they had to somehow eliminate the American agent, another order, this time for the red case beside him came his way. His tone of voice used to address him by his former title mocking his every move.

"Thank you," Whiskey chided, victorious grin irking every fiber of Galahad seniors being. However, before he could get a word in edgeways, Eggsy beat him to it.

"You know what Harry, I think he's got a point." The youngest agent began, earning questioning glances from both Harry and Whiskey.

"I think it sounds like a bright idea." The smirk that accompanied his words suddenly made sense as to what he was on about.

Moments afterward Eggsy makes his move by flashing a blaring light in Whiskey's eyes, blocking his vision which Harry took advantage of as he swung the lasso side to side, hoping he'd drop it amidst his temporarily blinded state. Unfortunately, he was quick to make a comeback, jabbing the button on his rope to turn it electric.

Looking down to see the flashes of sparks rapidly traveling up the said weapon, prompting him to hastily remove the rope attached to his neck. Just as he'd managed to successfully set himself free from Whiskey's grasp, a crackling sound filled his ears, sending a violent jolt of electricity pulsing through his body, slamming him onto the floor with a heavy smack that echoed throughout the room. Soon followed by a high pitched buzzing noise for good measure.

"What the fuck did you do to my lasso?" Whiskey demands, holding up said object for inspection. Only to find it's designated powers no longer active.

"Your piece of shit skipping rope electrocuted him!" Eggsy shouts in response, eyes darting between Whiskey and Harry who's still on the floor staring intently at the tiles beneath him.

The said agent spent the next few seconds rapidly pressing the button for even the tiniest of sparks to emerge, all to no avail.

Meanwhile, all Harry could do was watch hopelessly between the two bickering agents, the earsplitting ringing in his head only intensifying by the minute.

He didn't know what was more humiliating.

The way he looked.

The way Eggsy's forlorn expression was fixed on his.

Or the fact that he was at Whiskey's mercy not once but twice within the time frame of two minutes.

Apparently, he was so immersed in his own thoughts he hadn't even noticed Whiskey slowly approaching him, the now rendered useless lasso tossed aside in favor of his gun.

"I've probably done you a favor Eggsy," is all he manages to catch of what was to be the beginning of the Statesmen agents speech.

"A lost cause ain't ya?" Whiskey scoffs his full attention now on the elder Kingsman. "Gave me that case without a second thought."

A small grunt was all Galahad senior could master in response.

"Look at you laying on the floor like a baby faced bitch, you got no fight left in you." Whiskey's scornful chuckling reverberated across the room.

"I'll tell you a secret agent Galahad, even the young scrambled egg over here lost faith in ya."

Casting his gaze up at Eggsy, the man he trained so well from troubled youth to a fine gentleman, looked away as if to confirm agent Whiskey's suspicions.

Shame flooded Harry's being throughout Whiskey's rant. The same devastating sinking feeling that hit him when the agent who now stood in front of him, relentlessly taunting him to the core had saved him from literally having his ass handed over to him. The exact stomach-churning pang of guilt when Eggsy had yelled at the top of his lungs on how out of order he was, along with what an idiot he had been. Even when Merlin had questioned him on whether he was fit enough to see the mission through had been a kick in the teeth, but this was worse. No words could express how undignified all this was, to be verbally torn apart limb from limb in front of an agent he had mentored, spent hours on end educating him on all he knew to be a successful Kingsman agent now being subjected to this ruthless belittling was quite frankly mortifying on the highest scale possible. In fact, he's so wrapped up in recalling the past he almost misses out on hearing Whiskey's concluding sentence of,

"Maybe, I should put you out your goddamn misery." A clicking sound followed by a raise of a gun being aimed straight towards his head caught his attention.

"It ain't as if you got anything left worthwhile to fight for, I can see the eye of the tiger draining from you even as you lay there hopeless!"

It was at that moment when all the previous upheaval of shame abruptly morphed into rage. A rush of red hot anger seared through him as adrenaline pumped viscously into his system. His one brown eye visibly darkened, narrowing with fury as butterflies swarmed his vision.

A cataclysm of different scenarios engulfs his mind, each one of them fueling his desire to fight back and be the great Galahad he'd been for the past thirty-odd years. But at this moment he wasn't Galahad, his good energy spent. He couldn't bring himself to draw a single smidgeon of goodness anymore, a shadow of his past leaving a hollow bitter man craving for revenge.

The bellowing roar that erupts from the senior agent is enough to make the ground shake.

Then out of nowhere a gathering of blue, green, and yellow butterflies come charging towards Whiskey. A chorus of flapping wings surrounding the Statesman agent whose first instinct is to shoot at the winged creatures, only for his gun to be snatched from his grip and flung across the room and over Eggsy's head where it lands beside the youngest agent's feet. Seconds later Whiskey's being tackled to the floor, body convulsing and flopping like a fish caught on a fishing line, all while screaming for the attack to stop, voice breaking in between shouts.

Amongst all the chaos all Eggsy could do was stand and watch the horror unfold, mouth wide open and eyes widening in utter terror. His entire body feeling like jelly as he continues to witness the unnatural event, eyes glued to the sight of a heavily panting Harry slowly picking himself up, bulging veins decorating his facial features and sweaty strands of hair falling onto his forehead.

Feeble gasps from the butterfly covered Agent Whiskey attempting to get some air back into his lungs could be heard within the distance, only triggering Harry's hunger for destruction more.

"You're… A… Goddamn… sociopath… Harry," were his final words as Harry snapped his gaze onto the meat grinder. As if on demand the butterflies began to swiftly lift Whiskey into midair, said agent protesting muffled empty threats all the way.

Meanwhile, Harry remained focused on the ferociously built machinery that had somehow turned itself on without the touch of his hand, eyes tracing the gang of butterflies being led by the purple emperor graciously whisking the statesman agent to a grizzly demise.

The shrill slicing sounds of the blades scraping against one another fills his ears, watching as Whiskey is deposited headfirst into the meat grinder. Unable to tear himself away from observing the American agent's body getting swallowed up in its entirety, it isn't long until the mashed up contents of his body burst out from the other side of the machine.

Once the piece of equipment switches itself off the butterflies disperse into thin air. It's only then Harry feels the weight of the past few minutes finally catch up with him, knees buckling just moments before he collapses to the floor, grabbing onto the edge of the desktop for dear life.

From the corner of his eye, he can make out Eggsy rushing towards the red case, pounding in the code to release the antidote. No doubt using it as a distraction to rip his mind away from what had just occurred.

After having allowed himself a minute or so to collect his bearings, he compels himself to stand up and perceive the damage he's done.

"What the actual fuck Harry!" Eggsy exclaims, snapping him out of his train of thought. The younger agent's face a portrait of the phrase having looked like he'd seen a ghost.

Ignoring the younger agents' frantic questioning, Harry makes his way towards the minced remains of the former Agent Whiskey. Scowling at the pieces of meat, the senior agent lets out a huff before softly exhaling.

"Have a shot of that, Whiskey," he finds himself calmly saying out loud as if to pride himself on a job well done.

After what seems to be a lifetime, Harry casts his gaze onto Eggsy whose glaring right back at him. Having no idea what he could possibly say to the younger agent to ease his nerves the two men stand together in deafening silence. Neither one of them can stomach looking at each other for more than a few seconds at a time.

Eventually, Eggsy masters up the courage to speak his mind.

"There is seriously something very fucking wrong with ya Harry, you ain't right, you know that?"

A final deep breath accompanied by a quiet thud was his only answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all those who have read this chapter, this was a hell of a lot of fun to write and I hope you share the same feelings :)
> 
> Oh and if your wondering what inspired this scene, check out the video link below to a butterfly attack scene from the Fox tv show, Fringe.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnzqzFgFiKM


End file.
